


Resurgam

by La_Temperanza



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ghosts, Horror, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Temperanza/pseuds/La_Temperanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin can see dead people™, and Arthur's just indirectly invited the entire spirit world. To think, people said this party was going to be <i>boring</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resurgam

**Author's Note:**

> So I promised myself that the only way I would write for the Merlin Horror fest would be if no one took this prompt before signups closed. I might have made it way more complex than the prompter asked for (oops!), but I hope you enjoy anyway. Thanks to hms_seth for being my beta (and kind of convincing me to tattoo "AND THEN" on my hand so I won't forget ever again)!
> 
>  **Warnings:** Blood, gore, minor character deaths, monsters, dark themes, ghosts, decomposing bodies, and probably a few other gross and disturbing things.

Everyone said it had been an accident.

A tragic, freak accident; the crane foreman had lost control due to a mechanical error, and the two-ton steel cable had plummeted to the warehouse floor below. Balinor never saw it coming, and wouldn’t have been able to react in time if he did. It had been quick and painless--he probably didn’t even feel a thing.

This was all said in hushed whispers behind cupped hands, but Merlin heard everything. After the adults had paid him their condolences, they seemed to forget his existence as they spoke in somber tones over the finger food and drinks being served in the family den.

The problem was, he just didn’t understand what it all meant.

He had been told he acted older than his four years so many times before, but apparently he was still too young to figure out what exactly had happened. He didn’t know why he had to wear an itchy, ill-fitting suit, or why his mother kept commenting on how handsome he looked while there were tears in her eyes. He didn’t know why people kept insisting his father was in the closed coffin they had lowered into the ground on a rainy Thursday afternoon, or why--when he asked if they could open it so Balinor wouldn’t get scared of the dark--people had stared at him with a mixture of horror and pity.

Even though he didn't fully understand the situation, he at least grasped the solemn severity of it. So he didn't ask if he could go outside and play with his friend Will--no matter how bored and frustrated he grew with everyone ignoring him--and instead sat to the side, swinging his feet off the edge of the chair as a means to keep himself occupied. His eyes began to droop as he watched the ticking clock on wall, waiting for the big hand to land on the number six like his father once taught him. Maybe, if he just sat still and was a good boy, his father would show up, explain it was all a misunderstanding, and then--

"Come on sweetheart, time for bed."

Merlin raised his head groggily, blinking when he noticed time had passed and the room was now devoid of guests. His limbs were unresponsive, deadened by sleep, and he hung like a rag doll in his mother’s arms. He automatically buried his face into the comfort of her shoulder as she carried him up the stairs, the aroma of her rose lilac perfume tickling his nose. Usually it fell to his father to tuck him into bed, especially now that he was older and harder for his mother to carry, but Merlin was too tired to point this out.

“Goodnight, Merlin,” his mother said, pulling the blankets up to his chin and kissing him a little longer than usual on his forehead before leaving the room, pulling the door quietly shut behind her. Except for the old house settling, the room was quiet and calming, with shadows dancing across the walls provided by the large oak tree outside the window.

But just as Merlin was about to fall back asleep, he felt his bed shift, as if someone was bouncing on the edge of it. He grinned; he recognized this as a game he and his father would play on nights Balinor had to work late. Merlin ducked his head under the blankets with a muffled giggle, waiting as the shaking grew and grew until his teeth were chattering together from the force of it. He suddenly threw back his covers as he sprang upwards, colliding with his father’s broad chest, laughing brightly. The familiar denim jumpsuit was coarse against his skin as he hugged his father tight, but he didn’t care. He was just so relieved that his father was home, that people had been wrong, that everything was okay.

Something warm, wet, and sticky leaked onto Merlin’s face, and he absentmindedly rubbed at it, feeling it smear across his cheeks. He glanced down at his fingers, and even in the dim light, he could see they were streaked a glistening dark red. He looked up to ask his father what it was from, but instead of meeting the warmth of Balinor’s eyes, he saw nothing but blood spurting from a mangled mess of flesh and bone, the exposed windpipe spraying a fine pink mist in the air with each rattling breath it took.

Merlin screamed.

*

"Heads up!"

Merlin turned just in time to see a soccer ball soaring towards him. He instinctively held out his arms (dropping his textbooks in the process), but the ball still hit him right between the eyes with a loud _thwack_. The sheer force snapped his head back, and his hands sprung up to cradle his now aching face.

Raucous laughter filled the air, and he stiffened, a flush of mortification creeping all the way up to the tips of his ears. After checking nothing was broken or bleeding, Merlin lowered his fingers to glare at the nearby group. He should have known it was Arthur Pendragon and his teammates, and even as they joked and pointed at him with sly grins, he felt his treacherous heart thump wildly in his chest.

Arthur was the most popular kid in school, as well as captain of the soccer team, class president for two years in a row, and an arrogant prick--not to mention the last person Merlin should have a crush on. But even though Arthur never missed a chance to flick at Merlin's ears or tease him for his scrawny stature ever since elementary school, Merlin couldn't help but be drawn to Arthur for some reason.

It wasn't just because Arthur was incredibly attractive, with his golden blond hair and quirky smile that made most of the student body swoon, though that certainly played a part. What Merlin felt was more like a sharp tug in the center of his chest, a sensation that seemed familiar but just out of reach from being identifiable.

Sometimes he swore Arthur felt it too; there had been cases where Merlin looked up to see Arthur staring at him from across the room. Their eyes would meet, only for Arthur to sharply look away and ignore him, leaving Merlin feeling bewildered for the rest of the day.

"You alright? Sorry about that," Arthur said in a voice that was decidedly unapologetic as he came closer. "I thought you would catch it. But then again, sports aren't really your forte, are they, _Mer_ lin?"

"Science isn't yours, yet you don't see me throwing my Chemistry textbook at your head," Merlin retorted before he could stop himself, wincing as he remembered just who he was speaking to. Even though he wasn’t scared of Arthur, Merlin wasn’t exactly keen on his high school life being made a living hell either.

Luckily, Arthur just tossed his head back and laughed. "Is that so?" he asked, picking up the textbook in question from the pile on the ground and handing it over with a smirk. "Well, why don’t you show me how you’d try to do that.”

Merlin hesitated. He didn't want to chance his textbook being ruined in a scuffle; it was already smudged with dirt, with some of its pages bent back haphazardly. How would he explain to his teacher if anything else happened to it?

“Come on then,” Arthur said, sarcastically beckoning Merlin forward while still wearing that smirk on his face. “Come on!”

Arthur’s goading was the catalyst needed for Merlin to spring into action. He chucked the book at Arthur’s head, but wasn’t surprised in the slightest when Arthur simply moved out of the way. The book hit the ground with a loud thud, and Arthur once again picked it up and held it forward. “You see? It’s called ‘ducking,’ Merlin, you should try it sometime.”

Before Merlin could respond, one of Arthur’s teammates sniggered. “Too bad his father didn’t.”

It was as if all the air in Merlin’s lungs was suddenly expelled with a tremendous _whoosh_. He staggered backwards, reeling like he had been dealt a physical blow. The urge to get away subconsciously controlled his feet, and he rushed off before anything else could be said. Maybe Arthur and the others would label him as a coward, but Merlin wasn’t willing to let them have the satisfaction of seeing him break down.

The bathroom he stumbled into was thankfully empty, and he was barely able to enter to the first stall before he gagged, bent double over the toilet. Nothing came up from his turbulent stomach, but his throat still burned from the thick mucus dripping down it, his eyes stinging from the force of his tears. He scrubbed furiously at his face with a rough wad of toilet paper until his skin was rubbed raw, stopping only when he was finally finished crying.

He flushed the damp tissue away, and then went to the sink to splash cool water on his cheeks. He didn’t bother to glance in the mirror, knowing what he would find: puffy red eyes, a nose still dripping snot, and overall looking like someone had ripped his heart out and stomped on it.

It was always the same; even after thirteen years, the mere mention of his father’s death always hit him hard, haunting him wherever he went.

Not in the literal sense though, not any more. After the ill-fated night of Balinor’s funeral, Merlin never saw his father’s spirit again. Weirdly enough, he wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about that. He certainly hadn’t enjoyed seeing his father’s headless corpse trying to communicate with him (he refused to sleep with the lights off after that night, even to this very day), but the absence still made him feel somewhat hollow inside.

Besides, just because he wasn’t visited by his father any more didn’t mean he wasn’t visited by others. And if he had to choose who would haunt him, he’d rather it be a familiar presence than some stranger terrifying him for no reason--that he had figured out--other than because they could.

But of course, things never seemed to work out that way.

_Drip...drip...drip..._

Merlin heard it before anything else; the sound of water splashing, even after he had shut the faucet completely off. It echoed off the tile walls, faint at first but progressively growing louder. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a frisson of fear ran up his spine, causing his entire body to shiver violently.

He wanted to shut his eyes tightly and clamp his hands over his ears until it went away. But years of experience had taught him that ignoring it didn’t work, so he finally forced his gaze up towards his reflection.

“...This is the men’s bathroom, you’re not supposed to be in here,” he croaked, his attempt at making light of the situation falling flat.

The girl standing behind him didn’t say anything as she swayed, water continuing to trickle down her drenched body to form a puddle at her feet. Wet, stringy hair hung limply in front of her face, the ends gathering around her neck where angry finger-shaped bruises stood out against the grey of her rotting flesh. When she parted her pale bluish lips to speak, the only sound that came out was a wet gurgle as water and chunks of bile dribbled down her chin, reeking of chlorine and decay.

“Oh god,” Merlin whispered, clamping a hand over his mouth. No matter how many times he had seen such apparitions, he could never get used to them. Never get used to the sight of something no one else seemed to see, never get used to the stench of death that would linger behind, never get used to the helplessness he felt not knowing what he was supposed to do.

It wasn’t like in the movies where he could somehow solve the mystery of how the person died and reveal the truth to the rest of the world. When he was younger, he had constantly tried tell people what he saw, and was put through years of mental examinations, multiple doctors, and rigorous therapy as a result. None of it had solved his problem, and the different pills they had prescribed just made him feel like a member of the dead himself.

So he eventually lied and said he no longer saw anything, that he was cured, and claimed that it had all been a product of an overactive imagination and losing his father at an early age. Because as much as he hated his ability, he hated his mother fretting about him even more, constant worry tucked away in the corners of her eyes whenever she looked at him.

A part of him wondered if she actually believed he saw the things he did, but it was simply too much for her to accept that she couldn’t protect her son. He knew she suspected he was lying about being better, especially mornings when he nearly fell asleep in his breakfast, saying he had stayed up the night before because of a school project rather than the fact that a convicted felon wouldn’t stop weeping about being fried in the electric chair. The sizzle of bacon in the pan never sat well with Merlin after that, and he switched to being a vegetarian soon afterwards, not able to fully explain why the thought of cooked meat suddenly made him nauseous.

The sound of shuffling snapped Merlin out of his thoughts as the girl came closer, reaching her arms out pitifully. Her eyes were devoid of pupils, glassy white orbs that bore straight into him. He scrambled away as far as he could until he was backed up into a corner, shrinking down to the floor in an effort to make himself as small as possible.

“Please,” he pleaded, burying his face between his knees. “Just leave me alone.”

“Do you want your books back or not?”

Merlin jerked his head up and blinked. Any signs of the girl’s presence had vanished, and Arthur stood less than a foot away, a bemused expression on his face. Merlin stared at him dumbly for a few seconds, wondering what he was doing there, before remembering Arthur had asked a question. “...What?”

“Your books,” Arthur repeated, waving the stack he held in his hands pointedly. “You left them behind.”

“Oh.” Merlin took the books, holding them tightly to his chest. He wasn’t particularly possessive of them, but needed something to hold onto at the moment. “...Thanks.”

Arthur hummed in response before leaning against the wall, sliding down so he crouched right next to Merlin. They sat in silence, and just when Merlin was growing overly self-conscious, Arthur cleared his throat. “...Forget about Valiant. He shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Merlin nodded, not sure how he was supposed to respond. “Yeah, I guess.”

“No, really, it isn’t right,” Arthur said, shaking his head to emphasize his point. “It looks bad on the rest of the team when he spews shit like that. Of course, my father--I mean, the coach, he doesn’t care how his players treat other people, but just how well they play on the field.”

“Why do _you_ care then?” Merlin muttered, not wanting to be pitied by anyone, especially Arthur. “You smashed a soccer ball in my face, remember?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “That was an accident, _Mer_ lin. I apologized, didn’t I?”

Merlin bit his tongue, unconvinced. It must have shown on his face, because all of a sudden Arthur grew genuinely contrite. “Look, I really am sorry, both about the ball and Valiant. it won’t happen again.”

“...I don’t get it,” Merlin mumbled. “Why is it okay for you to tease me about my ears and everything else, but Valiant isn’t supposed to say anything about my father?”

For a split second, a pained expression rippled across Arthur’s face. But before Merlin could question the reason behind it, it was replaced with an easygoing grin. “That’s easy. It’s because I'm the only one allowed to pick on you,” he said, bumping Merlin with his shoulder. “...You do know I was just joking with you, right? I never _really_ meant any of it, even if your ears do stick out a little bit.”

Merlin turned away, pools of heat forming under his cheeks. To hear Arthur claim he had only been pulling Merlin’s metaphorical pigtails... Well, it certainly didn’t change the hurtful things that had been said, but it did make him feel like he understood Arthur a little bit better now. Maybe. He wasn't going to allow himself to analyze it all too deeply.

"Well, as much fun as it’s been to sit on a dirty bathroom floor with you, I have to go.” Arthur stood up, stretching before he offered a hand to Merlin, effortlessly pulling him to his feet. “By the way, aren’t you friends with my step-sister Morgana?”

Merlin choked back a laugh. Just the thought of him being allowed to share the same airspace as Morgana LeFay was ridiculous, let alone the idea of the two of them running in the same social circles. Truth be told, even though they had never exchanged a single word with each other, Merlin was kind of intimidated by her. She was one of those gorgeous, untouchable women who could lure the male population in with a come hither look or slay them all with a withering stare, all depending on her mood. "Um, no? I mean, no, we're not."

"Really?" Arthur raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You both seem to be really into all that supernatural stuff. You know, magic and communicating with the other side, so I thought... Didn't you used to say you could see ghosts?"

Merlin paled. The question was too soon after seeing the drowned girl, but he still managed to keep himself somewhat composed. “...I used to pretend I could when I was younger, that’s it,” he said, wishing for the umpteenth time that his words weren’t a blatant lie. “I don’t, really. Not any more.”

"Oh." Arthur frowned, sighing heavily. "Because Morgana’s having this whole stupid séance party thing on Saturday night and is forcing me to come. Supposedly, she's going to try and 'open my mind to the possibilities of which I cannot see' or something."

Merlin shifted on the balls of his feet, unsure of where the conversation was headed. "...So?"

"So, _Mer_ lin, I thought she was planning on dragging you to it as well." Arthur paused. "You should come anyway, it might be fun after all."

Was this some sort of cosmic prank? Not only was Merlin being invited to a party, it was by _Arthur Pendragon_ himself. A part of him wanted to accept immediately, but he was still cautious. "Um, maybe--"

"Great!" Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin's back. "I'll see you on Saturday night, around eight? You know how to get there, right?"

Merlin nodded, not about to point out how unnecessary it was to ask. Everyone knew the location of the Pendragon house, the massive estate that sat on the edge of Camelot. It was one of the first buildings to be built when the town had been established, and its walls sang with the history of Arthur's family throughout the ages. "Yeah, but--"

"Talk to you later then." Arthur flashed Merlin a brilliant smile, waving as he headed towards the door. Any remaining concerns Merlin had faded away at such a sight, and he found himself tentatively returning the gesture. He could figure out what the hell had just happened later.

*

_LOCAL OFFICIALS SEARCH FOR MISSING TEEN._

Merlin stared, his face nearly as white as the newspaper in front of him. The sound of his mother humming as she prepared dinner nearby was drowned out by the roar of blood rushing to his ears.

The girl in the black-and-white photo stared back. With her gentle smile and soulful eyes, he could hardly recognize her as the person he had seen earlier in the bathroom. But it _was_ her, there was no doubt about it. And now he had her name.

_Authorities are turning to the public for help in the search for a teenage girl that has been missing for over a week. Freya Bastet, 15, was last seen walking home from school this past Wednesday when some eyewitnesses claim they saw a van pull over and force Bastet inside. A full search and rescue team has been issued for the area, and there’s a reward being offered for anyone who steps forward with any information on Bastet’s whereabouts._

Merlin had always thought it would be better if he knew the identities of those who visited him, but now he realized how much he preferred them to remain as nameless faces. It hurt too much to know their name and story, to know their family and friends held hope that they were still alive and safe. It hurt too much to know that someone’s life had been taken away, and that it was all a reminder that what he saw was real.

The paper crumpled underneath his hands as he balled them into fists, his entire body shaking with the frustration threatening to overwhelm him. He felt like he experienced these horrific visions so he could do something about them, but he could never figure out exactly what. It wasn’t like he could go to the nearest police station and give a statement about how the girl they were searching for had been drowned and that her spirit had visited him. Hell, he had experienced it first-hand, and even he thought the idea sounded crazy.

“Merlin? Is everything okay?”

Merlin glanced up to see his mother looking at him strangely, as if she wanted to ask more but was hesitant of the answer she might receive. He forced a smile, not wanting to concern her any more than he already had the past few years. "Yeah, I'm fine."

“Are you sure? You're so pale, you look like you’ve seen a--” She caught herself just in time, pressing her lips into a thin line as she looked away guiltily. Merlin winced, wishing the two of them could one day have a full conversation where they didn’t have to carefully pick and choose the words they said and emotions they conveyed.

“...Anyway, do me a favor,” his mother said, acting as if nothing had happened as she wiped off her hands with a towel. “After you set the table, can you please let your uncle and his guest know that dinner will be finished shortly?”

Merlin nodded, grateful for the distraction. But he still quietly tore the article of the newspaper when his mother’s back was turned, tucking it into the pocket of his jeans as he left the kitchen. After he set the dining room table in a matter of minutes, he headed to the family den, knocking on the door before poking his head in. “Uncle Gaius, Mr. Gareth, dinner’s ready.”

“Thank you, Merlin. I was wondering if I should pop in and help your mother out, but you know how Hunith feels about me being underfoot in her kitchen.” Gaius chuckled as he slowly stood up, gesturing to his companion. “Come on, Killian, you old dragon. You can finish beating me at chess after we’ve eaten.”

The elderly man in question released a puff of pipe smoke through his nostrils, his amber eyes shining through the haze. “Gaius, if you detest losing so much, maybe you should save yourself the effort and stop playing.” He then cocked his head to the side, turning his attention towards Merlin. “And hello, young man. It’s been awhile, has it not?”

"Erm, yeah.” Merlin squirmed under the scrutinizing gaze, scratching his arm absentmindedly. While Killian Gareth had been friends with Gaius for years (and had been friends with Balinor as well), Merlin always felt uncomfortable around the man. The cryptic things Killian said sometimes caught Merlin off-guard, as if he somehow knew the truth about Merlin’s powers.

Merlin scurried away before any more words could be exchanged, sitting at the far end of the table. He didn’t eat much when dinner was served, and instead aimlessly pushed the food around on his plate, the piece of paper burning a hole in his pocket as the minutes ticked by.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Merlin,” Gaius said, raising an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

Merlin automatically shook his head, but then paused. “Well, umm, sort of... Can I go to a party this Saturday? Some people from school are having one, and I was invited today.”

“A party?” his mother echoed, blinking in surprise before she beamed at him. “How wonderful! Of course you can go! Just be careful, okay? And don’t stay out too late.”

“He’s seventeen, Hunith, you have to be prepared that he’s bound to get into a little bit of trouble,” Gaius joked. “Though knowing Merlin, he’ll probably be caught cleaning up after the rest of the boys throw toilet paper over people’s houses, or whatever kids do these days.”

Merlin made a face at the thought, but soon joined in with the rest their laughter.

“...I wonder how wise it is for young Emrys here to attend such a party,” Killian interjected through the laughter, his tone sharp and foreboding. “When it’s being held on the cusp of Samhain.”

“Samhain?” Merlin repeated, his brow furrowed in confusion. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place the significance. “What’s that?”

Killian leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he peered at Merlin. “You’re probably more acquainted with the idea of All Hallow’s Eve or Halloween, but it’s still the same basic principle. It’s said to be a time when the door opens to the Otherworld, and the dead can walk freely among the living."

Merlin swallowed hard, the skin on his forearms prickling with gooseflesh. It had never occurred to him that the party was on the same night as Halloween, and that holding a séance might just be inviting disaster, even for someone without his abilities. "...R-really?"

“Pure nonsense,” Gaius huffed as he scraped off the remains of his plate with renewed gusto. “It’s just superstition.”

“Some superstitions are created for a reason, are they not?” Killian argued, his eyes never leaving Merlin's. “After all, how many other cultures celebrate their dead around this time of year, hmm? Samhain, Halloween, Nos Galan Gaeaf, Day of the Dead--”

“That's enough!”

Everyone swiveled their heads around at Hunith’s outburst. She stood up abruptly, moving to gather empty plates with more force than was actually needed. “I'm sorry, but can we please discuss something else while we’re at the dinner table? Gaius, if you could help me grab the apple pie and ice cream from the kitchen, we can start dessert.”

As soon as his mother and uncle were out of earshot, Merlin scooted his chair closer to Killian, intrigued by the vague warning. “...You think I shouldn’t go the party just because it’s Halloween?”

“My concern isn't whether or not you should attend, young man,” Killian said, tapping his pipe against the table before he relit it. “I simply wonder if you are fully prepared for the consequences if you do.”

*

“Merlin, I didn’t know you were coming!”

Merlin's eyes widened as he was abruptly pulled into a tight embrace. While he knew Gwen was friends with practically the entire school population, including Morgana--the two of them seemed like the most unlikely pair ever, yet their relationship somehow worked--he didn't expect the bubbly and cheerful sophomore girl to be the one answering the Pendragons' door. "Umm, hi Gwen. Arthur said I should come...?"

“He did? I mean, I’m sure he did. It's not that I don't believe you, just I don’t know why Arthur would invite you." Gwen grew flustered before she quickly blurted out, "Not that there’s anything wrong with you of course!”

“...Thanks, I guess,” Merlin said, the corners of his mouth curling upwards to form a wry smile. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, right!” Gwen opened the door widely, waving him inside. “Morgana’s in the living room getting everything ready still, so I told her I’d greet the guests. It’s still early, so you’re one of the first people to arrive.”

Merlin tried not to gape as he stepped into the grand foyer, Gwen's chattering fading to a soft drone as he took in his surroundings. The Pendragon house wasn't some overly huge or extravagant mansion (even if Merlin's family home was miniscule in comparison), its elegance understated yet breathtaking at the same time. Its design harked back to golden days long since past; a large brass chandelier hung from the concave ceiling to illuminate a staircase that curved into the wall, the polished wood of the banister shining in the light. The floors were hardwood as well, well-junctured mahogany slats ingrained deeply with a sense of class and sophistication that only age could provide and modern architecture failed to achieve. With the exception of being wired with electricity and a few other modern conveniences, it was like the house had frozen in time.

And maybe for its former residences, it had.

Merlin couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a looming dark shadow pass by from the corner of his eye. He turned to look, but found nothing but cream-painted walls topped with white sculpted molding, antique furniture that could pass for new resting on elaborately woven rugs, and paintings and photographs of the Pendragon family throughout the years.

But he could hear the multitude of unearthly voices that seemed to be whispering right next to his ear, all of them speaking at once so their words ended up a jumbled, indistinct mess. He sorely regretted coming now, and wished he had heeded Killian's warning. Maybe he could sneak out before Arthur saw him, planning to use the pathetic excuse of suddenly not feeling well to explain why he had to leave early.

But just as the voices reached an all-time fever pitch, they stopped as a familiar one rang out clear as a bell. "Merlin!"

Merlin jumped. He turned on his heel to discover Gwen was gone, and instead Arthur was on the stairs, leaning against the banister and watching him curiously.

"Merlin," Arthur repeated, a smirk tugging on his lips. "What on earth are you wearing?"

Merlin blushed. Considering he had never been to a Halloween party before, he hadn't known what would be considered proper attire. He had thought himself to be quite clever when he threw on red Converse sneakers, dark denim jeans and his favorite TARDIS-blue "Trust me, I'm the Doctor" t-shirt on earlier, topped off with a long overcoat and even longer multi-colored scarf. But seeing Arthur's amusement at the eclectic ensemble, Merlin now felt foolish. "It's Halloween, so I thought--"

"--That you would dress up in costume," Arthur finished for him, and then let out a bark of laughter. "Really, Merlin, the Doctor? You’re a bit of a nerd, aren't you?"

Before Merlin could argue that if he was a nerd, what did that make Arthur for knowing what the costume was, someone cleared their throat loudly.

"I think it's kind of cute, actually," Morgana said as she appeared in the doorway, making Merlin wonder if it was something in their genetic code that gave Pendragon siblings the ability to sneak up on people. "Though not really necessary...Merlin, was it?"

"Um, yeah." Merlin nodded while trying not to think of how Morgana would eat him alive if he made one wrong move. Maybe he was exaggerating, but considering the predatory gleam he saw in her eyes, he wasn't so sure. "Is it okay that I came?"

“If it means that Arthur will stop sulking about being forced into joining us, then it's more than okay.” Morgana smiled, casting a knowing glance at her brother before turning back to Merlin. “In fact, ever since you agreed to come, that’s all he’s talked about. He's actually become a somewhat pleasant person to be around.”

“Morgana,” Arthur growled. The warning in his tone was hard to miss, but Morgana was left completely unfazed.

“Oops, spoke too soon,” she said as she gave Merlin a wink. “Come on Arthur, quit pouting and join the rest of us. You promised, remember?”

“Morgana?” Gwen called from the other room. “Where should I put these chairs?”

“Be there in a minute!” Morgana called back, and seemed to hold a silent argument with Arthur before leaving in a huff. Merlin fidgeted, unsure of what to do next and how to process the new piece of information he had just been given. ...Could it be Arthur had actually been _excited_ Merlin decided to come?

“You see what I have to deal with?” Arthur sighed as he came down to the bottom step. “I lost a bet with her, so not only do I now have to go this dumb séance thing, she had this weird rule about who I was allowed to invite to it.”

And just like that, Merlin's hopes were dashed. It was stupid to think that he had been Arthur's first choice as a companion, but to be so blatantly slapped in the face with the truth still stung. Lowering his eyes and blinking them quickly, Merlin mumbled, “What about your father? He doesn't mind?”

Arthur snorted. "Not like he cares. He'll be out all night with his current prospect for Wife Number Three. Morgana and I like to call this one 'Catrina the Troll.'" He paused to roll his eyes, and then grabbed the back of Merlin’s collar, tugging him towards the hall. "But come on, _Mer_ lin, let's get this over with already. If I have to suffer through Morgana’s party, so do you."

*

Merlin wasn't quite sure what he had expected when he heard Morgana was planning a séance, but snacking on pita chips and hummus while talking to people from school was definitely not it.

He was animatedly discussing the latest assignment in their shared art class with Gwen ("The teacher wants us to do _what_ with fruit?") while her boyfriend Lance listened quietly in the background with a gentle smile. Percy was carrying a hollering Elyan piggy-back style around the room, and Vivian and Sophia sneered at their antics in between cooing and playing with each other's hair. Gwaine and Elena had rushed by, thrusting suspicious looking cups of punch into everyone's hands before running off with matching Cheshire grins. Leon sent a disapproving stare their way, and had almost gone after them, stopped only by Morgana's hand on his arm as she shook with laughter.

For once in his life, Merlin felt how it was to be an average, _normal_ teenager. It was rather a liberating sensation, and he found himself talking and laughing more often than usual because of it. All thoughts about disembodied voices and living corpses left his mind, and he was starting to think he had worked himself about it being Halloween for nothing.

During a lull in conversation, he sensed he was being watched, and he looked up to have his eyes meet Arthur's across the room. Feeling a bit daring, he shyly waved and was rewarded with a fond smile for his efforts. He still couldn't really figure Arthur's intentions out; one minute Arthur seemed to want nothing to do with him, and then the next, they were exchanging smiles and pleasant conversation.

There was the pealing of a fork hitting the side of a glass tumbler, and Morgana waited until she had the focus of the entire room. "Since everybody is here, let's get started before my house gets completely destroyed." She shot a pointed glare in Elyan and Percy's direction (who sheepishly returned the couch cushions to their original positions) before gesturing to the round coffee table in the center of the room. "Have a seat and join hands with the person next to you so we can begin."

"What’s supposed to happen anyway?" Vivian asked, snapping her gum with an obnoxious pop. "Are we really going to talk to dead people or something?"

There were a few sniggers from the crowd, followed by another glare from Morgana before she answered, "Basically. My older sister Morgause says she and her husband hold successful séances all the time. Even their eleven-year-old son joins in every now and then."

“Well, that explains a lot,” Arthur muttered as he plopped down in his chair. “I always thought your sister’s family were a bunch of freaks, and their kid is definitely not normal.”

“Arthur!” Morgana shouted, her eyes flashing angrily. “They are _not_ freaks, and Mordred is a perfectly sweet boy!”

“He’s a little creep, Morgana! He always stares at us whenever they visit but never says anything. Last time, I caught him pulling the wings off a butterfly, and I swear he was eating them.” Arthur grimaced at the memory. “It’s no wonder the kid doesn’t have a problem with this ‘talking to the dead’ shit, he probably gets off on it.”

“Aww, I bet you’re just scared, Arthur,” Morgana teased. "You know, you can leave anytime you'd like if it gets too much for you."

"I'm not scared," Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Who would be scared of sitting in the dark as _nothing happens_?"

Merlin was, though he wasn't about to admit it out loud. He tried not to whimper when Morgana switched the lights off via remote, the room blanketed in an eerie darkness save for a few lit votive candles. Gwen let out a small gasp beside him, and he whispered a hasty apology after he realized it was because he had gripped her hand too tightly. He automatically loosened his hold on Arthur's hand as well, even though there was nothing he wanted to do more than cling to it like it was a lifeline.

"Everyone hold their hands above the table, and then we'll start with a prayer," Morgana commanded in a low authoritative tone. "Dark moon, home of the dead, holder of souls, hear our prayer. Spirit guides, and guardian angels, we ask for your protection and offer our thanks. Earthbound spirits who would help us here, we seek enlightenment, and bid you welcome.”

There was a collective murmuring of confusion and wonder around the table, and Merlin could hear Arthur say disparaging remarks about it all being "New Age hippie bullshit" under his breath. Personally, he wasn’t so sure; a gut feeling in his stomach told him that Morgana wasn’t just saying idle words, but that they carried actual weight which made his heart feel heavy in his chest.

"Welcome to the spirit guides who come forth this night," Morgana continued, raising her voice to be heard over any interruptions. "If there is anyone who wishes to communicate, please make your presence known to us."

Silence filled the room, the majority of the group unconsciously holding their breath in anticipation. After a few seconds, there was a loud bang against the wood tabletop.

"Oh my god!" Elena screamed, nearly leaping up from her chair. Noticing Gwaine struggling to contain his laughter in the seat next to her, she shoved his shoulder roughly. "Don't do that! You scared the crap out of me!"

"It was an accident, I swear! I hit my knee on the edge of the table." Gwaine chuckled, then waggled his eyebrows with lecherous intent. "But if you're really that scared, you can always sit in my lap if you want."

"Both of you, shut up," Morgana hissed out of the corner of her mouth, and then addressed the room at large. "If there's a spirit here with us, please let us know by knocking on the table twice."

There was a pause, followed by two faint knocks, following each other in slow succession. Gwaine let out an impressed whistle, shaking his head when everyone turned towards him expectantly. "Hey, don't look at me. That was someone else that time."

"Very funny, whoever it is," Arthur said, sounding completely bored. "Can we get this over with? I'm about to fall asleep here."

"Can you answer some of our questions?" Morgana asked, ignoring Arthur. "With one knock meaning no, and two knocks meaning yes?"

Again, there were two knocks, more forceful than last time.

"Gwaine," Gwen whispered with a nervous smile, "Are you sure that's not you?"

"It's not," Gwaine answered, his usual roguish façade slipping. "Really it's not."

"Percy? Elyan?"

Percy shook his head, and Elyan gestured to their hands still linked together. "Nope, neither of us did it."

"It doesn't matter who it is, they need to stop." Arthur narrowed his eyes as he looked at the faces around the table. "The joke isn't funny anymore."

The entire table shook violently as there was one mighty singular bang.

"...That means no, right?" Lance asked cautiously, searching for confirmation. "'No,' as in it's not going to stop?"

"Okay, this is ridiculous." Arthur threw up his hands in disbelief, scooting his chair away from the circle. "If you're really a spirit, why don't you prove it? Throw some shit around, make a noise, something!"

Merlin shivered as the temperature of the room instantly grew colder, his breath releasing into tiny puffs of air with every exhale. He still couldn't see anything definite, just nondescript blobs and shapes forming outside his peripheral vision, as if they were watching, waiting. The entire room thrummed with energy of a magnitude he had never experienced before, and somehow he knew what it meant: something big was coming unless he managed to stop it. “Arthur, I don't think that's such a great idea..."

"Don't be such a wuss, _Mer_ lin, nothing is going to happen. Look, I’ll even prove it to you.” Arthur cleared his throat and began to mock Morgana’s earlier prayer. “Oh great spirit guide, blah blah blah, anyone and everyone who wants to show up and make themselves appear, go right ahead. Come on, do something that’ll really scare the shit out of us.”

Everyone else waited anxiously, but after a few seconds, Arthur grinned in satisfaction. “You see? There’s no such thing as--”

The candles were suddenly snuffed out as an unnatural howling wind whipped through the room, throwing everything into darkness and chaos. An earth-shattering boom caused the ground to tremble beneath their feet, the entire house creaking and groaning from the strain put on it. It was all drowned out by the unmistakable sound of something being stretched and then ripped, akin to wet, living flesh being torn asunder.

And in between the high-pitched shrieks and angry shouts that followed, the world as Merlin knew it faded into nothing.

*

_The next time Merlin opened his eyes, he couldn’t be sure if what he was seeing was real. He was still seated at the table, but the other chairs were no longer occupied by the rest of the group. Instead he found a collection of well-crafted mannequins, whose clothes and appearance matched their living counterparts to every minute detail...with the exception of their faces. Their glass eyes were filled with unbridled agony, and their painted mouths were twisted into a silent scream._

_He wanted to look away, but found he couldn’t move; couldn’t even blink. It seemed he was forced to partake in this sick caricature of a last supper until the fates that be decided to free him._

_"Emrys," something whispered as it shifted behind him, drawing out the s like a hissing snake. "We're so happy to finally meet you, Emrys."_

_He tried to open his mouth to speak, but his body still refused to cooperate._ Who are you? _he thought, wondering if the being had the ability to read his mind._

_"We are many things, Emrys," the thing answered, its voice a harmonic chorus of both male and female, both young and old. "We are the watchers of the door as well as its captives. We are everything, and we are nothing."_

_There was a sound of fingers scratching along the table as the mannequins began to jerkily move, their wooden joints scraping against each other. For a moment he thought they were alive until he saw the flash of silver threads, their actions being controlled by unseen puppeteers._

__What’s going on? Why are you doing this? __

 _“Your friends invited us in, Emrys._ All _of us,” the voice sang, mocking. “They should have known better, especially with you here to help ease our passage back to your world. You already know what it’s like, to see us, to hear us, to make us feel like we’re alive for just a little bit longer. But they’ll soon learn, won’t they Emrys? They’ll learn.”_

_There was an ear-splitting crack as one by one the mannequins were heaved to the ground, blood gushing from the splintered wood as cackling laughter bounced off the walls._

*

“Why haven’t the lights come back on yet?”

“I’m telling you, that tree probably knocked down the power lines when it fell. We’re probably going to be without electricity for a while.”

“Well, why hasn’t anyone called someone to fix it yet? This is ridiculous.”

“I tried, but the phone lines are down too, and I can’t get any bars on my cell in the middle of this storm. So unless one of you get a decent signal, shut the hell up already.”

“Hey, I think he’s waking up.”

Merlin blinked as he returned to the conscious world, surprised to discover he was no longer at the table but instead curled up in a ball on the couch. Even under the massive pile of blankets covering him he felt like he would never be warm again, his skin tingling as if encased in a sheet of ice. His teeth chattered as he looked up to the circle of concerned faces surrounding him. “Wh-what happened?”

Arthur let out a sigh of relief before his usual cockiness slipped back into place. “You fainted like a damn girl.”

Morgana whacked Arthur on the back of his head, shooting venomous daggers from her eyes. “One, don’t be such a misogynistic asshole, Arthur. Two, who was the one freaking out the most after Merlin passed out?”

“I did not ‘freak out,’” Arthur argued as he petulantly rubbed his head with a wince. “I just didn’t want the idiot to hurt himself on the table or chair if I didn’t catch him in time.”

Merlin blushed at all the attention being poured on him, and tried to sit up to convince everyone he was fine. “I’m okay, really--” was about all he got out before his head swam, and he fell back against the couch cushions.

“Maybe we should find a way to take you to the hospital,” Gwen softly suggested, taking one of his hands and trying to rub some warmth into it. “You’re still freezing.”

“It’s probably because he doesn’t eat enough protein on that crazy no-meat diet of his,” Arthur said, prodding Merlin’s ribs with one finger. “Seriously, you’re all skin and bones. I didn’t even need Percy’s help when carrying you over to the couch.”

Merlin’s mind was now swirling with a multitude of questions. Arthur had been worried? About him? And to top it off, he was one of the few people who remembered Merlin was a vegetarian?

But as much as he wanted to fan the spark of heat that blossomed in his chest, he didn’t have time to dwell on it now. He sat back up, slowly this time, straining his eyes to see through the dark. There were a few lit candles that dotted the room, and every now and then a flash of lightning would illuminate everything in an eerie glow as the storm raged outside. It was then that he noticed there were a few members of the party missing. “...Where is everyone?”

“Lance and Leon went down to the basement to see if they could do something with the circuit breaker,” Gwen explained with a calming smile. “Elyan and Percy went searching for more blankets, and I don’t know where Gwaine and Elena went...”

“It’s probably best not to ask with those two.” Arthur scowled. “My father had to start locking his liquor cabinet after the last time they were over and ‘conveniently’ disappeared.”

Merlin shrugged off the blankets and managed to stumble to his feet, swaying from the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. “No, that’s not good...”

“Merlin, sit down.” Arthur pressed down on Merlin’s shoulders, forcing him back onto the couch. “Will you look at yourself? You can barely walk.”

“But--” Merlin protested weakly. “But Arthur--”

“No buts, Merlin. Honestly, everything is fine. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Yeah, except for the fact that we’re stuck here until the storm passes,” Vivian grumbled, jabbing a well-manicured fingernail in Arthur’s direction. “In a house now filled with ghosts, thanks to you.”

“And I keep telling you, there’s no such thing as--”

The french doors leading to the outdoor patio burst open on their hinges, the panes of glass rattling in the frames. Footsteps echoed off the wooden floors, muddy prints left from invisible boots that grew closer and closer before stopping a foot away from the group. As if their owner had vanished, or was still there, watching them all closely.

“...What,” Arthur growled, his jaw clenched, “the _hell_ is that?”

“Now do you believe that this is real, Arthur?” Morgana snapped as she gestured to the floor, the prints already starting to fade until it was like they were never there. “How do you explain that, huh?”

Before Arthur could formulate an answer, Sophia screamed, the strands of her hair standing up on their ends. Not just standing, but twisting around themselves as they were braided in an elaborate plait. There was a mischievous giggle, and a young boy popped out from behind her. His grey lips were stretched in a manic grin, the dark circles under his dull and lifeless eyes popping out against his pallid skin.

“Who are... How did you get in here?” Arthur stepped towards the boy, reaching out to grab at him. But his fingers passed through thin air, and the boy scampered off, running straight through a nearby wall.

Arthur jumped back, landing on all fours as he stared in disbelief. “...Did you see that?” he asked, stunned. “This is some sort of sick joke, right?”

Merlin was torn. All his life he’d wished there was someone he could talk to, someone who understood what he went through, someone who saw the things he did. Just so he knew he wasn’t alone.

But not like this. Not with Vivian and Sophia clinging to each other and wailing, Gwen biting her lips as she fretfully waited for the next attack, Morgana struggling to keep herself calm while fear surged in her eyes, and Arthur acting like his entire world had been turned upside down.

He had more experience than any of them with this sort of thing, and even though he was just as terrified out of his wits, he was determined to help in any way he could.

“We need to find the others,” he said, pulling off one the blankets and wrapping it around his shoulders. It wouldn’t provide much protection, but it would keep him somewhat warm. “Before it’s too late.”

*

Merlin always hated basements. In his experience, they tended to be dank and dirty, dust clinging to cardboard boxes that were slowly rotting to shreds, mold and mildew climbing up the stone and mortar masonry. The one in the Pendragons’ house was no different with the exception that it was larger than most, filled with mountains of clutter that could be a possible deathtrap even with the lights on.

Arthur led the way down the creaky wooden steps with Merlin at his heels, shining a flashlight into every possible corner and crevice. Morgana and Gwen were close behind, gripping onto the railing as they kept alert for any sign of trouble. Sophia and Vivian made up the end of the line; they had first balked at the idea of going down into the musty basement, but didn’t care for the alternative of being left alone.

“Leon? Lance?” Merlin called out. “Are you still down here?”

“What if they’re dead?” Vivian whined. “The ghosts already killed them, and they’re going to get us next!”

“They’re fine,” Gwen whispered, though she sounded slightly unsure. “They have to be okay.”

“Gwen’s right,” Arthur said, his tone more confident. “Ghosts don’t kill people.”

“And how do you know that?” Sophia hissed, continuing to brandish her purse in front of her even though it would be useless as a weapon. “You’re the one that didn’t believe in them until tonight!”

“They don’t." The words popped out Merlin's mouth of their own will, and as sets of inquisitive eyes turned towards him, he knew he'd be forced to explain sooner or later. "I mean, at least the ones I’ve met don’t.”

“...You were lying,” Arthur said after a lengthy pause, recognition dawning over his features. “When you said you don’t see dead people.”

Merlin ducked his head, his cheeks burning shamefully at the thought of his secret being out in the open. Would they all treat him differently now? Would Arthur? It wasn’t like he was treated that great to begin with, but Merlin could live without being labeled as a “freak” or “crazy” for something he had no control over.

The comforting clap to his back startled him, and he jerked his head up to find Arthur staring at him with an awed sort of grin.

“...I always knew there was something about you, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur drawled. “I just couldn’t put my finger on it. So, tell me: how long have you been the kid from the Sixth Sense?”

Merlin blinked; that was definitely not the response he had been expecting. He swallowed deeply, trying to will his heart from beating a hole straight through his chest. “Since...since my father died.”

“Oh.” Understanding flickered to life in Arthur’s eyes, and Merlin was grateful he didn’t have to explain exactly what had happened--it seemed Arthur had already guessed the answer. “I see.”

Merlin nodded once and risked sneaking a glance at the others to judge their reactions. Morgana smirked at him like she was going to talk his ear off about the occult the next chance she got, Gwen beamed as she reached out to pat his arm in sympathy, and both Sophia and Vivian looked at him like the conversation had gone completely over their heads.

Not one of them looked at him like there was something wrong with him, and he wondered if the result would have been the same if he told the truth before the recent events. Probably not, but he could handle that fact for now, simply relieved that someone finally knew.

The sound of belaboured footsteps shattered the silence, and they all swiveled around sharply in an attempt to locate the source. There was a collective sigh of relief as Leon stumbled from the shadows, using one hand to shield his eyes from the bright flashlight beam while helping Lance limp forward with the other.

"What happened?" Arthur asked as Gwen rushed over Lance’s side. "What took you so long?"

"You're not going to believe this, but I swear there's something down here with us," Leon said, shaking his head in bewilderment. "We found the breaker box okay, fiddled with the fuses, and flipped through all the switches so it’s all ready when the power comes back on. But just as soon as we were about to head upstairs, we could hear the switches click back one by one, like someone was just waiting for until our backs were turned. We tried it three times before our flashlight died all of a sudden, and then Lance ended up tripping over something and twisting his ankle."

"I didn't trip, I was pushed," Lance said, wiping away the sweat that beaded on his forehead. His face was blanched in pain or terror, or possibly even both. "There was no one behind us, but I’m telling you that it felt like someone barreled straight into me."

“Oh my god, the ghosts really are going to kill us, aren’t they?” Vivian wailed. “I don’t want to die!”

“Ghosts?” Leon furrowed his brow, confused. "What are you talking about? What’s going on?"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose as he groaned. “It’s a long story. Let's get out of here, and then I’ll explain everything--”

A low, guttural growl suddenly reverberated in the air, followed by the sound of claws clacking against the cement floor. Something animalistic snuffled close by, almost as if it was circling around, stalking its prey before it would attack.

“...Merlin,” Arthur whispered as he signaled for the rest of the group to back away in the general direction of the stairs, “Shine the flashlight over there.”

Merlin hesitated. He really didn’t want to see what kind of thing was down there with them, but he knew it was the best way to find out what they were dealing with. The only problem was, it was that moment that the flashlight decided to flicker a few times before going out completely, casting them all into total darkness. Merlin held a hand out in front of him, wiggling his fingers inches from his face, but all he could see was vague outlines that he wasn’t sure he was imagining or not.

When he let his hand drop with a resigned sigh, he froze. Because now, only a few feet away, there was clearly a pair of glowing red eyes hovering over a set of snapping jaws, full of mangled yet deadly sharp teeth.

“...Run,” Arthur said, then repeated himself more forcefully. “ _Run_!”

Everyone haphazardly dashed towards the stairs, nearly tripping on the steps in their haste. As soon as they all made it out of the basement, Arthur slammed the door shut and promptly braced all his weight against it. The painted wood shook violently in the door jamb, like something huge was slamming against it over and over in an attempt to break through. There was an unearthly howl and frantic scratching, the door beginning to splinter as it was gouged by unseen claws.

Then, it just stopped. They all stared at the battered, barely standing door, anxiously waiting to see if the thing would come back and finish the job. But whatever it was, it seemed like it had given up the chase for the time being.

"Okay," Arthur said as he exhaled a long and shaky breath. "What the fuck was that?"

No one said anything, shaking their heads as they gasped for air. Even Merlin was at a loss as to what had just happened, having never dealt with something of this caliber before. Sure, the spirits he saw on a regular basis scared the shit out of him every time, but he had never feared for his life before.

"...Morgause tried to warn me," Morgana said, sounding legitimately terrified for the first time that night. "She said we needed to be careful in doing a séance, because not all the spirits that can come through are benevolent...or even human."

 _Your friends invited us in, Emrys._ All _of us._ The words from earlier repeated in Merlin’s head, and he shuddered as he finally understood their true meaning.

Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe they were going to die after all.

*

It was unanimously decided upon that the living room was the best spot for an impromptu point of gathering at the moment. There was more than one exit in case they needed to make a quick escape, and there were plenty of candles around that could still be lit for light. The flashlights seemed to be working again after their bizarre malfunction in the basement, but not surprisingly, no one seemed to be putting much faith in them.

Lance grunted as he was deposited on the couch, his protests that he wasn't that hurt ignored, especially when it was easy to see how swollen his ankle had grown. Gwen propped it up over a throw pillow and sat on the ground by his side, kissing his knuckles and trembling as he he murmured encouraging words into her hair. Sophia and Vivian were more subdued than usual, wrapped in blankets on the floor, both commiserating how they wished their fathers were there to save them. Morgana stood stiffly in Leon's arms, turning her face towards his shoulder so no one else could see her cry.

Arthur was the only one keeping to himself. He was alone in the corner, watching the entire room with a thoughtful frown, idly tapping his teeth against the ring he wore on his index finger. The expression on his face was so lost and forlorn, so unlike Arthur, it made Merlin's heart ache.

It wasn't fair. Arthur was a natural born leader, and had automatically taken charge of the group when no one else seemed able. But while everyone was already looking to him for guidance over their next course of action, they seemed to forget that he was probably just as clueless and scared as the rest of them.

"Arthur," Merlin said, lowering his voice so the others couldn't overhear, "We need to get everyone out. It's not safe here."

Arthur blinked, like he had just registered Merlin's nearby presence. "I'm not going to let myself be run out of my own home, Merlin," he said, injecting his words with a wavering sense of bravado. "Besides, we can't just leave the others, we have to find them too."

Merlin started to protest, but then stopped. He knew Arthur was right, and that they still had to find the rest of the group. But it didn't mean he had to like staying in the house any longer than they already had.

"Leon," Arthur said suddenly, his voice raised with a tone of authority. "Watch out for everyone here while I go look for the others. I'll be back soon."

Morgana put her hands on her hips as she glared. "Oh no, Arthur, you are _not_ going out there by yourself. I'm coming with you."

"Morgana, no. This is..." Arthur trailed off, pausing to glance down at his feet in an unusual display of humbleness. When he looked back up, his eyes were swimming with guilt. "...This is all my fault. I should have listened to you and taken this more seriously, I'm sorry. But I have to do this, and I can't ask any of you to risk your life because of my mistake."

"I'll go with you."

Merlin tried not to flinch as everyone whipped their heads around in their direction. Even Arthur seemed shocked by the offer, his mouth agape in a way Merlin would find comical in any other situation.

"I mean, I know a little bit about this sort of thing," He said, shrugging with a false air of nonchalance. "So maybe I can help?"

"You see? I'm in perfectly capable hands." Arthur rolled his eyes, though the smile he gave Merlin was fond and genuine. "Either I'm doomed to a death by ghosts, or one by incessant, nonsensical chatter. Personally, I don't know which one is worse."

"Hey!"

"Stop sulking and let’s go already, _Mer_ lin," Arthur said, strangely acting more confident now than he was a few minutes ago. "We just have to search a huge house full of vengeful spirits while having no way of defending ourselves. How hard can it be?"

*

If they managed to get out alive, Merlin was seriously going to have a talk with Arthur on the dangers of hypothetical questions. For they had barely entered the grand foyer before there was a large explosion that shook the ceiling.

Chunks of dust and plaster to rain down on their heads, and Arthur instantly pushed Merlin into the safety of a nearby doorway. They stared in horror as the chandelier swung wildly on its chain before it fell to the floor with a crash, slivers of glass shattering and flying through the air.

Merlin thought he felt something slice into his cheek, and he could see a thin cut above Arthur's eye that was already beading with blood. But before they could check themselves over for any other injuries, there was another series of loud banging and thumping, like there was a stampede of elephants coming down the stairs.

Arthur signaled for Merlin to remain quiet as the sounds grew closer, and they waited with bated breath for something to appear. There was a blur of motion as two familiar figures rushed into view, stumbling down the last few steps and tumbling to the ground.

"...Elyan, Percy!" Arthur shouted, relief washing over his features. "Are you okay? Where the hell have you two been?"

Percy winced as he helped Elyan stand back up, the shards of glass crunching underneath their feet. "There's something--"

"I believe you," Arthur said, interrupting before Percy went into details. "Whatever you two saw or heard up there, I believe you. But right now you two need to head to the living room, and Morgana and Leon will explain everything once you get there. Just be careful, okay?"

The two of them nodded before they gingerly made their way through the debris that littered the floor. Arthur watched them leave, and then turned his attention back to the darkened stairway. He gripped the banister so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he paused for a brief moment at the bottom landing, his face pale.

“It’s okay if you’re scared, Arthur,” Merlin blurted out. He didn’t want Arthur to feel he had to maintain a brave face when it was just the two of them. In fact, as surreal as it was the first time he saw it, Merlin kind of liked knowing that Arthur was bothered by this just as much as he was.

“I’m not scared, Merlin,” Arthur said defensively. As if to prove a point, he proceeded to walk upwards with ease, all hesitation gone. “I’m just reminded of how much I hate these stairs.”

Merlin trotted behind, keeping as close to Arthur as he could without tripping them both up. “Why? What’s wrong with them?”

Arthur stopped short, and didn’t even make a sound when Merlin accidentally ran into him. “Because of my mother.”

Oh.

Merlin didn’t know how he could have forgotten. Everyone in town had heard the story of Arthur’s “miracle birth,” how a heavily pregnant Ygraine Pendragon had lost her footing one night and fell down the entire flight of stairs. Arthur barely survived after being delivered via emergency C-Section, but there had been no hope for his mother.

It now made sense why Arthur had declared Merlin’s father off-limits when it came to teasing; he personally knew what it was like to lose a parent.

“Are you hoping to see her again?” Merlin asked, and then mentally kicked himself when he saw Arthur’s shoulders stiffen. “I mean, is that why you agreed to Morgana’s séance thing in the first place?”

“Honestly, I don’t know," Arthur said as he resumed climbing the steps. "I mean, I used to think I would give anything to meet her, just once. But then there’s times I swear I feel she’s around, like she’s watching over me.” He shrugged. "I'm probably just imagining things."

It was rare for Arthur to speak so openly, so Merlin wanted to make sure he didn't say the wrong thing in response and make Arthur clam up again. "...Maybe you're right. I don't know for sure, but there has always been something about you. Even when we were younger I could sense it."

“Since we were younger, huh?” Arthur smirked. "I never knew you cared that much. Sure you don't have a crush on me?"

"W-what? No!" Merlin sputtered, his face red and flustered. "Why would I have a crush on an insensitive, egotistical prick like you? Have you forgotten all the times you used to bully me?"

Arthur snorted incredulously. "When have I ever 'bullied' you? I might have teased you a few times, but it was just a joke, I told you."

"Arthur, in fourth grade you called me 'Big Ears' throughout the entire school year!"

"Never knew you were one to hold a grudge, _Mer_ lin," Arthur said over his shoulder. "But if you want me to apologize for something I said when I was just a stupid kid, I will. In fact, I kind of like your ears."

Merlin tripped over the top step and nearly fell onto his face. "...Haha, very funny," he said after he regained his composure. He wasn't about to let himself take Arthur's words seriously and become the butt of some joke. "I'm not falling for that one."

"Hate to break it to you, but you kind of already did. Right there actually." Arthur pointed to the stairs with a grin, and then grabbed Merlin's arm to help steady his balance. "But I mean it, what I said."

Merlin huffed and tugged his arm out of Arthur’s grasp, his body still tingling where the pads of Arthur’s fingers had brushed against his skin. "I don't get you at all. Most of the time you're making fun of me, then other times you act like...like we’re friends or something."

"Merlin, shut up."

"See, this is exactly what I mean!” Merlin shouted as he threw his hands up in the air, turning his back on Arthur grumpily. “...Why did you even invite me if you were just going to give me mixed signals all night? Was this supposed to be some sort of game going on between you and Morgana?"

"Merlin--"

"No, I just want to say I'm getting really tired of it, and okay, despite all this, maybe I do like you a little bit, even if you're a--"

"Merlin!" Arthur hissed, clamping a hand over Merlin's mouth. "Will you just be quiet for a minute and _look_?"

Merlin let out a muffled insult before he turned his gaze in the direction Arthur gestured towards. He instantly understood the problem: at the end of the hallway lumbered something that probably used to be a man, but now could no longer be classified as human. Most of its flesh had been torn away from its body so all the decaying muscles and sinew were left exposed, strips of blackened skin hanging off in thin paper-like shreds. It oozed infected pus and congealed blood as its disjointed limbs moved together to form an uncoordinated imitation of a shuffling gait.

The head suddenly snapped upwards with a loud crack, and its empty sunken eye sockets zeroed in on them. It opened up its mouth, its rotting jaw nearly falling off the hinges, and roared.

Without warning, the creature charged, all previous sluggishness nowhere to be found. Thinking quickly, Arthur opened the nearest door, throwing Merlin and himself inside.

“...Arthur, this is a closet,” Merlin said, growing increasingly aware of how their bodies were now pressed together in the cramped, dark space. “You’ve trapped us in a closet.”

“Yes Merlin, I noticed that, thank you.” Arthur gritted his teeth, holding the jangling door knob with both hands to prevent it from turning. “I didn’t see you coming up with any other ideas.”

The banging and pounding on the door abruptly ceased, but before Arthur could check if the coast was clear, there was the sound of heavy furniture scraping across the floor.

“What the--” Arthur tried the door to find it would now only open a few centimeters. “...Great. It’s blocked us in somehow.”

“What?” Merlin took the flashlight to shine it out into the hall, but wasn't able see a thing. “Why would it do that?”

Arthur sighed as he tried the door again without any luck. Whatever was in front of the door wouldn't budge a single inch. “Why are you asking me that? You're supposed to be the Ghost Whisperer, can't you figure out what it wants?”

Merlin shook his head as he slid down to the ground, his back up against the door. He had thought that maybe he could have been helpful in some way, but he was no closer in discovering how to deal with the spirits than he was before. "No, I don't know how. I've never done this sort of thing before." He tucked his knees to his chest and chewed on a hangnail nervously. "I mean, I've seen them before, and I think some of them want my help, but how can I do anything? I'm just...me, and I wish I wasn't."

He didn't even realize he had unconsciously been rocking back and forth until he felt Arthur's arms wrap around him. Merlin didn't care if he would be mocked for it later as he clung to Arthur, shaking like a leaf in the embrace.

"I'm sorry," Arthur murmured into Merlin's ear, his tone strangely soothing. "I wish you weren't caught up in this mess. Morgana made me invite you because she knew I wouldn't do it on my own without her meddling, no matter how much I like you."

"...Wait, what?" Merlin pushed away and rubbed his nose with back of his hand. "You have a funny way of showing it, you know that?"

"Yes Merlin, I've already heard all about how I constantly torture you," Arthur said, his words dripping with sarcasm before growing sincere once more. "And I'm sorry for that too. It’s just...you were the first one who actually talked back to me and wouldn’t take any of my shit, so I thought that you knew I was just playing around. ...Well, it doesn't matter now, just that I'm sorry."

"You're serious." Merlin let out a strangled laugh. "We're trapped in a closet after being chased all over your house by all sorts of things that want to kill us, and you're just now telling me this? That you _like_ me?"

"Well, I don't like you for your overwhelming sense of optimism, that's for sure." Arthur said, reaching over to ruffle Merlin's hair fondly. "Besides, I think I distinctly remember you saying you liked me yourself a few minutes ago, didn't you? Even though I'm--"

In retrospect, Merlin wouldn't be able to explain what had exactly spurred him into action. Maybe it was because it was the heat of the moment, the weight of Arthur's confession slamming into him like a mack truck. Or maybe it was because he feared they wouldn't survive the night, so the repercussions of what happened next wouldn't matter.

In any case, one second Merlin had been ducking away from Arthur's grasp, and then the next he had practically thrown himself at Arthur. As far as kisses went, the angle was all wrong; their noses bumped together and their teeth clacked. He felt Arthur stiffen underneath him, and instantly Merlin pulled away, shame burning his cheeks.

Arthur stared at him with widened eyes. "What the hell was that?"

Merlin's heart fell. Was it possible that he had misunderstood what Arthur had meant? "I just..." he mumbled, his hands fidgeting nervously. "...I just didn't want to die without ever being kissed..."

He started to curl into a ball, wishing he could just vanish in embarrassment, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"One, you're not going to die any time soon," Arthur said. "And two, even if you were, that was a horrible kiss to go out on."

Before Merlin could ask for clarification, he was spun around, his limbs flailing with the sudden movement. Arthur gently gripped Merlin's chin before leaning forward, his lips slightly chapped yet soft against Merlin's own. The second kiss was infinitely better; tender and hesitant at first as they discovered what the other liked, messy and more frantic as time passed. Merlin moaned as Arthur sucked on his bottom lip, then again as their tongues barely grazed each other. He raised his hands to wrap around Arthur's neck, his fingers playing with the fine hairs there. Arthur groaned his approval before resuming kissing Merlin with reckless abandon, pressing so hard that soon both of their mouths had grown red and swollen.

Merlin whined when Arthur shifted backwards and broke the kiss, the two of them quietly gasping for air.

"...Okay, we are definitely getting out of here," Arthur said, placing a kiss against Merlin's temple. "Just so we can do more of that later."

The confirmation that this thing between them wasn't a one time deal made Merlin beam uncontrollably. He nodded with flushed cheeks, and then shakily got to his feet. "Maybe if we both push on it, we can open it just enough to get out?"

Merlin could practically hear the thoughts about his strength (or lack thereof) bouncing around in Arthur's head. But although he didn't look that convinced, Arthur stood up and cracked open the door. "Okay then. On the count of three, we push. One, two, _three_!"

Their bodies rammed into the door, their feet slipping against the floor in search of traction. At first it didn't seem like it was going to work, but then there was a loud crash and the door swung forward. Merlin instantly brought out the flashlight, illuminating the remains of the bookcase that had blocked them in, books and wood scattered everywhere. "We should go. There's no way anything nearby didn't hear that."

"You know, at first I thought you worried too much, Merlin," Arthur said, stepping out of the closet and stretching. "But now I'm starting to think--shit!"

Arthur stumbled forward, his body slamming hard against the ground. At first Merlin thought he had tripped, but then he saw disembodied translucent hands wrapped around Arthur's ankle. "Arthur!"

"Go!" Arthur shouted as he tried to kick out against the invisible assailant, his fingernails leaving trail marks in the plush fibers of the floor rug. "Merlin, just go!"

Merlin watched horrified as Arthur was rapidly dragged down the hall into one of the bedrooms, the door swinging shut behind him with a commanding boom. Merlin dashed after him, shaking the doorknob and banging on the wood until his knuckles started to split open from the force. “Arthur! _Arthur_!”

There was a fearsome snarl behind him, and Merlin paused before he slowly turned. "...No...how did you...” he whispered, nearly tripping over his feet as he tried to back away. “...you were downstairs..."

The beast from the basement stepped from the shadows--no, that wasn't right, for the entire thing was composed of shadows in itself. Its shape was constantly shifting and changing as it moved, the blurry edges of its body allowing it to blend in with the darkness. The crimson phosphorescence of its eyes shone outwards like two will-o’-the-wisps, signaling Merlin’s impending demise as the beast suddenly rushed forward.

With nowhere to run or hide, Merlin stared dumbly as it lunged at his chest, passing right through him.

And that’s when Merlin felt his heart stop.

*

Merlin blinked; he was still standing in the hallway, the shadow creature nowhere to be found. But everything was cast in an eerie blue light, and when he reached out to press against the nearest wall, his hand went straight through it. He jumped back in shock and raised his hands to find he could see completely through his fingers.

Oh. _Oh no._ No no no, he couldn’t be, he wasn’t--

“Calm down dude, you’re not dead.”

Merlin froze. He hadn’t heard that voice in years, no matter how much he had missed it. He swallowed deeply, and there were tears in his eyes as he looked up. “...Will.”

“It’s been a long time, huh?” Will asked, giving a cocky wave. “Jeez, you got a lot taller than me, but you’re just as skinny. Hasn’t your mom been feeding you?”

“Will,” Merlin repeated, unable to believe it was his childhood friend standing in front of him. Will looked the same as he did four years ago, dressed in an old t-shirt and sweatpants because he refused to wear the gown the hospital gave him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, man. The afterlife has been boring as hell since you're not around.” Will rubbed the back of his head, all of his hair gone, shaved off a long time ago. It had been the one thing Will wouldn’t allow the chemotherapy to take away. “I would’ve visited, but I didn’t think it would be fair for you. Besides, I made my peace about dying a long time before it happened. I mean, the only real regret I have is dying at thirteen from leukemia and leaving my family and you behind, I guess.”

Merlin wiped his eyes, emotions he had tucked away long ago rising to the surface. Will would have been the one person he wouldn’t have minded seeing again after death, but he knew Will had a point. “Will, what’s going on?” he asked, sniffling. “They have Arthur, and will probably go after everyone else. I don’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, about that... First off, you and Pendragon? What the hell, Merlin, the dude’s a total asshole.” Will shook his head, sighing. “But you see, when he opened his big fat mouth and invited the entire freaking Otherworld here, he released two types of spirits. There’s the ordinary ones like me, who are just happy to be back here for a little bit, and then there’s the Others.”

“The Others?” Merlin echoed, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with the nameless figure while he was passed out.

“They’re the ones to watch out for. They’ve been around so long, they don’t even remember what it’s like to be human, and just want to kill and destroy everything. Frankly, they’re a great big bag of dicks,” Will said, shrugging his shoulders unapologetically. “They’re the ones playing havoc with everything. Your dad and I with a bunch of others have been trying to stop them, but they’re a lot stronger, so--”

“Wait, my dad?” Merlin placed a hand over his mouth, his eyes starting to sting again. “...My dad is here?”

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy, once you get over the whole headless thing,” Will said with a grin. “He’s the one that pushed the bookcase in front of the closet, probably to protect you guys as much as he could. But listen, there’s not much time to talk. You’re the one that has to send the Others back, no one else can.”

“What? Will, how the hell am I supposed to do that? One of those things just _killed_ me!”

Will flicked his fingers against the middle of Merlin’s forehead, and Merlin gasped at the stinging sensation left behind. “You’re not dead, see? You ever wonder why you can see the things you can? Turns out you’re one of these Gatekeeper guys, an ambassador between the living and the dead, but you never got the Learner’s Manual on what you’re supposed to do. The thing is, the Others are attacking because they’re scared of _you_. They’re hoping to freak you out enough that you don’t figure out how to send them back.”

Merlin rubbed his forehead, struggling to comprehend what Will was telling him. “How do I send them back? It’s not like they’ll listen to me.”

“They have already, even though you didn’t realize it,” Will said, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re spirits, Merlin. They can go wherever they want, but you keep closing doors on them and thinking it’ll work. It doesn’t really stop them, but it delays them for a bit because you will it to happen. It’ll be hard, but you need to grow some balls and command them to leave already. Hell, tell them to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine too, I don’t care.”

“But--”

“No buts, Merlin. If the Others are here, then the rest of us are stuck here too.” Will jabbed Merlin in the chest, making him stumble slightly. “If that’s not enough incentive for you, they’re going to devour the souls of every living person in the house, including your Arthur. Now wake. The fuck. _Up._ ”

*

Merlin’s lungs suddenly expanded like they had never been filled with air before. He coughed and looked around, noting everything was back to how it was before. He was once again completely solid, his heartbeat pounding in his eardrums. Will was gone, but Merlin could still feel his encouraging presence nearby.

“I hope you’re right about this, Will,” Merlin said as he turned to the door, testing the knob one more time to see if it was still locked. “... _Open._ ”

There was an audible click of the latch, and then the door creaked open. Merlin darted inside, stopping short at the scene in front of him.

Arthur was laying prone in the middle of the floor, his face battered and bruised. But his chest heaving with haggard, shallow breaths meant he was still alive, or at least for the moment. The shadow creature was skulking around his body, fangs bared and claws unsheathed. Every now and then it would try to attack, only to be rebuffed by a shield around Arthur, a golden light that seemed to be weakening by the second.

" _Get away from him_ ," Merlin commanded in a voice much deeper than his own. " _Leave this place, and never return._ "

The thing howled in pain, its body dissipating in a swirl of dark, inky smoke. Merlin dropped his hand and let out the breath he had been holding. He had done it; he had actually done it.

But there was no time to celebrate, not when Arthur still lay on the ground, unmoving. "Arthur!" Merlin shouted, falling to his knees. "Arthur, wake up!"

"He’ll be okay, he’s just sleeping for now."

Merlin snapped his head up and watched as the golden light transformed into a young, blond woman. There was no need to ask who she was; Merlin could easily see the family resemblance.

"You're his mother," Merlin whispered, averting his eyes from the massive bloodstain on the front of her nightgown. "Arthur was right, you were with him the entire time. You’re the presence I felt."

Ygraine nodded with a gentle smile. "I couldn't just leave my only child," she said, her fingers brushing through Arthur's bangs. "I wanted to be able to protect him always, but I'm just so tired...I would like to finally be able to go to rest."

"I'll protect him for you," Merlin said, not even thinking twice about the consequences of such a promise. "I won't let anything happen to him."

Ygraine's smile grew. "Thank you, Merlin. I know he's in good hands." She then bent down and kissed Arthur's forehead, her expression wistful. "Goodbye Arthur. I promise I'll still watch over you from the other side."

"... _Go now_ ," Merlin said, wishing things could be different but knowing it was for the best. " _And be at peace_."

Ygraine mouthed her words of gratitude as she faded away. Arthur stirred not long afterwards, holding his head and grimacing. "Ugh, what happened?"

"I'll explain later," Merlin said, swallowing around the lump of emotion in his throat. "Right now, I have a plan."

*

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Arthur asked incredulously. He was limping slightly, his movements still sluggish, but he seemed determined to keep up with Merlin's confident stride.

"Pretty sure," Merlin said, walking briskly through the hall. "A lot happened after you fainted."

"I did not faint, I was knocked out. There's a difference--"

One of the doors crashed open in front of them, ripped completely off its hinges. The stench of death wafted through the air as the rotting undead man from earlier stepped through the wreckage, immediately setting its sights on the two of them.

Arthur automatically pushed Merlin behind him, using his body as a shield. "Merlin, go!" he shouted. "I'll try to distract it while you--"

But Merlin cut him off, calmly raising his hand towards the creature. " _You are no longer allowed to exist in this world._ "

The thing convulsed as its limbs snapped off one by one, its bones and sinew melting into a puddle of goo before crumbling into ash.

Arthur stared at the pile with widened eyes. "...What the fuck did you just do?"

Merlin rolled his eyes as he pushed past Arthur. "I think you mean, 'Why thank you for saving me, Merlin. That was amazing, and I think I might have grown more attracted to you and your awesomeness.'"

"Why the hell would I find your ability to make a mess with dead body parts attractive, _Mer_ lin?" Arthur scoffed, already recovered from his shock. "But you're right, thank you. Do you think you can do the same to that thing in the basement?"

"Don't worry," Merlin said, taking the stairs two at a time. "Fluffy has already been put down and taken care of."

"...'Fluffy,'" Arthur repeated, raising a bemused eyebrow. "You named the dangerous hellhound that wanted to eat us all...'Fluffy.'"

Merlin grinned cheekily and shrugged. "Hey, it seemed to fit once I thought about it."

"...You make a dead thing implode on itself and you get all cocky, you know that?"

Merlin's grin grew wider, and he was just about to say something back when there was a bloodcurdling scream. The two of them exchanged glances before dashing down the rest of the stairs, running into the living room and skidding to a halt.

Framed pictures and other hanging decorations were being lifted off the walls and hurled through the air, the fragile ones shattering into pieces as they hit the ground. The windows were opening and closing of their own accord in an eerie mimicry of a mouth laughing. The couch was hopping up and down, shaking the entire room, and the chairs raced each other around the room.

Lance, Percy, Elyan, and Leon were packed tightly in the corner, trying their best to form a protective circle around the women. Morgana and Gwen were clinging to each other, while Vivian held an unconcious Sophia as she sobbed from fear.

Not wasting any time, Merlin walked to the center of the room, effortlessly ducking any flying projectiles. The activity seemed to increase at his presence, until he slammed his hands to the floor. " _Stop_!"

Everything froze for a split second before falling down, completely lifeless. There was a pause before hundreds of black, beady eyes popped open upon on the walls, blinking in unison as they followed his every movement.

_"You're too late, Emrys. This place belongs to us now."_

"No, you're wrong," Merlin said, shaking his head. "You've overstayed your welcome, and now it's time for you to leave."

Disjointed laughter rang throughout the room, and Merlin felt hot, fetid breath blow against his face.

 _"And how are you going to do that, Emrys? Just because you discovered you're a Gatekeeper means_ nothing _. You're still weak, you can't defeat us all."_

At first, Merlin was afraid the Others had a point. He could send back one or two of them at a time, but he had no idea how to take care of all of them, or if he even could.

But then he realized the solution was staring him right in face; if he was a so-called Gatekeeper, then there must be a gate that connected the two worlds together. Drawing power from reserves he hadn’t been aware he possessed, Merlin breathed in, but didn’t exhale. Instead, he simply closed his eyes.

In the vision in his mind, he could see what he determined to be the gate in question, a massive steel and iron bar structure, ancient stone monoliths standing as silent guardians on each side. Using both hands, he managed to pull one of the tall, heavy doors open, struggling against the whirlwind that threatened to drag him inside.

 _The presence of all the spirits in this house is hereby declared forfeit!_ He didn’t know where the words he was reciting in his head came from. It was like they were second nature, a side of him he had never tapped into before now. _Now leave!_

A chorus of pitiful wails and angry shouts erupted into the air, and a cloud composed of inhuman faces and grotesque bodies were sucked through the gate.

_”No! You cannot do this to us, Emrys!”_

_Too bad_ , Merlin thought, shutting the door with a resounding thud after every last spirit had been put back inside. _You should have thought about that before you decided to fuck with me._

There was a loud roar as the gate collapsed in on itself, leaving behind a sense of tranquility in its wake. Merlin snapped his eyes open and exhaled, stumbling backwards a bit from exhaustion. But just as his legs gave out underneath him, he felt strong arms grab him from behind, and he turned his head to find Arthur grinning at him.

“I don’t know what you just did,” Arthur said, “but I think it worked. And before you say anything, yes, it was awesome.”

The rest of the group slowly came over, staring at Merlin in awe. Some of them were a bit dazed by what had just occurred--in particular Sophia, who was slowly regaining consciousness. But most of the group seemed to have gratified smiles on their faces, patting Merlin on the shoulder as they echoed similar sentiments to Arthur’s.

The patio door suddenly clicked open, and everyone jerked their heads up to see Elena and Gwaine walking in with disheveled clothes and mussed up hair.

“Sorry, we went out to my truck to look for extra flashlights, and then got ‘distracted’--whoah!” Gwaine paused, letting out a low whistle as he took in the state of the room. “What the hell did we miss?”

*

**EPILOGUE**

Merlin watched the funeral proceeding from afar, hidden under the shade of the trees. It was a beautiful day; a bright, blue sky with no sign of rain. He was grateful for that, for he thought Freya had dealt with enough water already.

A familiar arm wrapped around his shoulders, and he sighed softly as he felt Arthur’s lips against his temple. “What are you doing over here?” Arthur asked, gesturing his head towards the ceremony. “They wouldn’t have found her if you hadn’t told the police where that Halig guy had dumped the body.”

“It was an anonymous tip, so it’s not like I can go up to her parents and say, ‘Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Bastet, I’m so sorry about Freya. Oh, how did I know her? You see, I’m the one who told you where you could find her, because once her spirit spat out enough water to fill a swimming pool, she told me who murdered her.’” Merlin shook his head, idly kicking over a pebble in the dirt. “I’m glad I could help Freya pass over to the other side, but I still wish I could have given her family happier news.”

Arthur hummed thoughtfully at that, and then tugged at Merlin’s hand. “Come on, while we’re here, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Merlin blinked in confusion, but let himself be led through the cemetery, passing the newer, freshly dug graves towards the ones that had been there longer. Just when he was about to ask who they were supposed to be seeing, they stopped, and Merlin gasped.

“Hello Mom,” Arthur said softly, setting the bouquet of flowers gently into the vase on the ground. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited much, but I brought someone special with me this time.”

“...Hi,” Merlin whispered, resting a hand on the gravestone as he knelt onto the grass. Even though the encased photograph had faded over the years, Ygraine’s smile was just as bright as ever. “...It’s nice to see you again.”

**BONUS!**   


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you would like to comment on Livejournal, you may do so [here](http://fuckyeah.livejournal.com/273228.html).


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